Page 4 of Stoney Gazes for Helpful Gorgons

I raise an eyebrow. "My favourite rock?"

"You're a gorgon, right? You must have one."

I reach up and touch my hair, but both of my snakes are neatly tucked away. "How..."

"The glasses. I've met enough gorgons to recognise them, they've always got a slight hint of pink to the lenses."

"Huh, I've never noticed."

"So? Which is it?"

"Marble, I guess. But I've never given it much thought."

"Mine's slate." His tone is completely serious, as if he's given it a lot of thought.

"Slate?"

"Yes. It's the way it feels, and the way it breaks, there's something satisfying about it."

"Just how much thought have you put into your favourite rock?"

"Oh, a lot. You're not the only being with stoney magic," he says.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're not a gorgon."

"Gargoyle."

"Oh."

"So rocks feel like a good subject to start on, unless you don't like that?" he checks.

"No, I'm sorry, I was just kind of intrigued about that being your go-to alternative subject."

He chuckles. "What would you have gone with?"

"I don't know, maybe I'd have asked what you study?"

"But that's boring," he responds. "But if you must know, I'm studying law."

"Wow, that's intense."

"I've always loved it," he admits. "And you study...something fun?"

"Art history."

"Oh, then definitely not," he jokes.

"It's fascinating. My Granny got me into it..." My voice cracks.

Understanding dawns on his face. "And so we get to the reason we're here anyway."

"Everything leads me back here at the moment," I admit. "It feels like no matter what I do, my thoughts end up back on her."

"I know what you mean. But it gets better."

"Right, you lost someone too."

"My mum. Six months ago."